


You're My Only Home

by Sheena_Is_A_Punk_Rocker



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Cannot stress how fluffy this is, F/M, Gentle headbutts, Keldabe Kiss, Mandomera, Neck Kissing, Nothing crazy but still, Planned spiciness in next chapter, Romance, So I'm upping the rating, Spicy content, Things get a little steamy, can you tell that neck biting is my kink?, neck biting, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27051907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheena_Is_A_Punk_Rocker/pseuds/Sheena_Is_A_Punk_Rocker
Summary: It's dark in the barn, as it always is whenever they meet like this. Din can see Omera's silhouette in front of the open window as she watches the rain falling outside.He's been thinking about this for ages—between harrowing fights and long stretches of time spent in hyperspace and late night comm calls while the little one was asleep. He's nervous and fumbles with his weapons belt and bandolier before gently setting them on the table. As he does so, he remembers with much embarrassment what had happened the third time he'd landed on Sorgan...A quiet night turns into a blissfully life-changing one.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Omera, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Omera (Star Wars)
Comments: 80
Kudos: 139





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So... this was supposed to just be a cute little ficlet. And then turned into a 6+ page one-shot so, you're welcome! HUUUUUGE thank you and shout out to TheHeartOfAMandalorian for being my beta and inspiration and overall encouragement. This was inspired by one of her ficlets and she encouraged me to write it and this piece would literally not exist without her squeeing over literally everything I came up with. 
> 
> And this all started with the mental image of Din and Omera cuddling while wrapped up in Din's cloak.
> 
> So now, onto the fluff! Disclaimer: I cannot be held responsible for any cavities that are caused by this tooth-rotting fluff

It's dark in the barn, as it always is whenever they meet like this. Din can see Omera's silhouette in front of the open window as she watches the rain falling outside.

He's been thinking about this for ages—between harrowing fights and long stretches of time spent in hyperspace and late night comm calls while the little one was asleep. He's nervous and fumbles with his weapons belt and bandolier before gently setting them on the table. As he does so, he remembers with much embarrassment what had happened the third time he'd landed on Sorgan.

_The first thing he'd done after almost dying on Nevarro was plot a course for the sleepy backwater planet, without even thinking about it really. The details on how he'd managed to land his ship and walk all the way to the village in that state—borderline delirious as the adrenaline wore off—are fuzzy but the next thing he remembered was waking up in the barn with Omera removing his armor carefully, piece by piece. She already had his weapons belt off and had been working on the pauldrons._

_Even with the helmet on, she seemed to sense that he was awake and he remembers the look of relief that had crossed her face. “You passed out right when you got to the village,” she explained, and then asked him what had happened. He thought about the last few days—picking up Cara and Kuiil, the firefight, Moff Gideon, IG-11 self-destructing in order to save him and the kid._

_He took a deep breath as he decided where to even start. And as he told her what happened, he helped her remove the rest of his armor so she could treat his various injuries._

* * *

He takes off the gloves next, setting them next to the weapons belt, and continues reminiscing.

_After treating his injuries, Omera had left him and the kid in the barn so he could start to recover from the fight with Moff Gideon. The next thing he knew he was being awoken by the sound of music and the villagers cheering and laughing, and it was completely dark out. He must have slept for hours._

_He donned his armor and stepped out of the barn with the kid in his arms. As he suspected, the village seemed to be celebrating something. As he approached the party that was in full swing, Winta suddenly appeared at his side. “Can I play with him?” she asked, eagerly, her demeanor much different from when they first met._

_He handed over the child and Winta carried him away to play with her and the other children. He couldn't help but smile at that._

_He didn't partake in any of the festivities himself, preferring instead to observe. Omera came over to stand next to him shortly after. She informed him that the village decided to use their return as an excuse to celebrate. They talked a little bit, mostly Omera asking him questions like if he slept okay and how Cara was doing, but soon they lapsed into a comfortable silence. He'd always appreciated the silence._

_As he watched Winta dancing with the child, he felt something brush his hand. He looked over to Omera and she looked up at him before gently taking his hand in her own._ Is this okay? _her eyes asked. In answer, he squeezed her hand and she smiled before squeezing back._

* * *

The vambraces come off next and Din can feel himself blushing as he remembers what had happened during one of his last stops on Sorgan—after several months of searching for the kid's people with no luck.

_He'd decided to make the village his base, at Omera's suggestion. It seemed like a safe option, now that the kid wasn't being hunted._

_They were in the barn, as they are now, and they were sitting at the table. He'd felt comfortable enough to grab her hand again and she smiled at the gesture. She asked him questions about his Creed and other aspects of Mandalorian culture and he remembered how it had been the last time he was asked those questions—how Mayfeld and Xi'an had mocked his culture and taunted him. And how Burg had tried to remove his helmet. He found himself eager to answer Omera's questions, as they came from a place of genuine respect and curiosity._

_They had talked for hours in hushed tones as the little one slept in his closed pod. As she realized how late it had become, Omera had stood up from the table and said, “I should let you get some sleep. It's late.”_

_Din grabbed her hand before he could stop himself. He wasn't sure what he was doing but chose to blame his newfound confidence on the spotchka he'd had earlier with dinner, even though he hadn't actually had that much._

_Omera looked down at their entwined fingers and then back to him. He tugged at her hand gently and she moved closer to stand between his legs. “Stay?” he'd asked, tentatively after a few seconds of silence._

_She smiled softly. “Of course.”_

_He was surprised when she decided the best place to sit was on his knee. He wasn't complaining though._

_“Is this okay?” she whispered._

_His_ kar'ta _was racing and he could only nod in answer. He rested his left hand on her back lightly to support her but he wasn't sure what to do with his right. He gripped the edge of his thigh guard in order to give his hand something to do. He cursed his awkwardness._

_Eventually though, he got used to the physical contact. He was still awkward, but less so, and Omera seemed to sense it because she relaxed as well and leaned against his shoulder where his pauldron sat. He didn't think that could be very comfortable but she wasn't complaining. He still insisted on moving his cloak so at least she had a soft cushion._

_They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes. Din watched as Omera stretched her hand out to run her fingers lightly over the controls on his right vambrace. He cleared his throat before he began telling her what each button did. He explained the significance of a Mandalorian's armor and, with great shame, admitted where his current armor had come from—leaving the kid with the Imps and how the others in the covert had helped the two of them escape._

_Omera paused in her movements and picked her head up off his shoulder to look at him. He refused to meet her eyes through his visor. “Din, look at me,” she said._

_With great difficulty, he did. “You're still a good person,” she told him._

_He wanted to argue with her, but instead he looked away again and stayed silent. She reached up to touch the cheek of his helmet and turn it towards her, and then gently leaned up to rest her forehead against his._

_His_ kar'ta _skipped a beat and he was pretty sure he stopped breathing for a second. He knew she didn't understand the significance of the gesture in the context of Mandalorian culture but he still appreciated the intimacy of it. He nudged her back gently._

_After several seconds, she retreated to look into his visor again. “Can I kiss you?” she whispered._

You technically just did _, he wanted to tell her. But instead, in answer to her question, he leaned over to turn the lantern on the table off. And then he grasped her hands gently in his and brought them up to touch the sides of his helmet._

* * *

He removes one more key piece of armor, setting it next to the vambraces, before crossing the barn to where Omera is standing next to the open window. The rain has lightened up to a light drizzle and Sorgan's twin moons peek out from behind the cloud cover. He steps up behind her and takes a deep breath—thinking about what he's about to do—before tentatively wrapping his arms around her. He can tell by her soft gasp that the first thing she notices is the absence of his gloves and vambraces, and she grasps his hand tightly.

He pulls her closer with one arm around her waist and uses the other to envelop them in his cloak. It's getting easier for him to initiate these intimate moments with her. They stand there in comfortable silence for what feels like hours. He braces himself for what he's about to do and then says her name softly. She hums in acknowledgment. “Please look at me,” he tells her.

Omera turns around to face Din at his request. And then she gasps and quickly looks away, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. He can't help but chuckle softly.

* * *

Surely he must have made a mistake, she thinks. It's dark in the barn, but not _that_ dark. Sorgan's two moons let in enough moonlight for her to see her surroundings—unlike the first time they had kissed. It had been pitch black that time, with the window closed.

She hears him laugh softly and he grabs the hand that's not clutching the end of his cloak still. She feels him squeeze her hand gently. “It's okay,” he assures her.

She slowly opens her eyes and then turns her head to look at him.

He gives her a faint, nervous smile that causes his eyes to crinkle at the corners. She never expected to see his eyes, much less such a welcoming look in them. Her eyes flit about his face as she takes in the rest of his features. His hair is dark, from what she can tell, given what little light the twin moons provide. It's slightly matted, from wearing his helmet all the time, and she finds herself reaching a hand up to sweep his hair out of his eyes. His smile takes her breath away. She imagined him to be handsome but still wasn't prepared to see proof of that in person.

She smiles back at him and slides her hand down to rest on his jaw—feeling several days worth of stubble under her palm and the sensation sends a delightful shiver down her spine. His jaw is clenched, and he's shaking slightly with nerves. She rubs his cheek soothingly with her thumb in the hopes that he'll relax.

And through all of this, she has to force herself to ignore the small part of her that tells her to look away—that she isn't privileged enough to witness this.

Omera knows how significant this is for him—he told her himself the day they met that no one has seen his face since he was barely older than Winta. It was during one of their late night comm calls that he'd told her that a Mandalorian can only take their helmet off for their _aliit—_ their clan.

She's honored by the implications of this moment but, “Din, I don't want you to feel like this is something you needed to do. I would have been happy even if I never got this chance.” She _needs_ him to understand that she respects his Creed and never expected anything more from him than what he was willing to give her.

He shakes his head and explains, “I know you would be, but I met a few other Mandalorians. They're... much less radical about following the Creed than my covert was. They removed their helmets in front of me.”

Oh. Her smile falters for a second and she feels foolish. Maybe this moment isn't as important as she thought it was. Din obviously notices the change in her demeanor and is quick to continue, “ _They_ might be more lenient about showing their faces but,” he pauses, to make sure he has her full attention, “the only people I'm interested in showing my face to are you and Winta.”

Tears spring to her eyes. She doesn't miss the significance of him including her daughter in his statement. He wants _both_ of them to join his little clan of two. She moves both hands to rest on his pauldrons—one hand still clutching his cloak so it's still wrapped around the two of them—and her fingers trace the outline of the mudhorn signet.

He pulls her closer and leans down to rest his forehead against hers (he finally told her what the gesture meant to a Mandalorian). He pulls back after a few seconds to look into her eyes. He takes a deep breath before whispering, “Omera I'm asking you to marry me.”

The tears are flowing freely now and the smile on her face is so big her cheeks hurt. She never thought she'd feel this way again after her husband died. Over the last ten years she has been able to let go of her grief and look back on memories with him fondly but the loneliness never truly went away. But now she doesn't need to be alone anymore.

She keeps one hand on his pauldron and moves the other into his hair so she can pull him down for a proper kiss. She can feel him smile against her lips. “Of course I'll marry you, Din,” she whispers back—barely pulling away from the kiss to speak.

She knows it won't be easy—she doesn't expect him to stay on Sorgan permanently. He still needs to find someone who can understand the little one's mysterious powers. But now he doesn't have to do everything alone—he'll have a home to come back to finally.

They can figure out the details in the morning, but for now, she's content to just stay there in his arms, soaking up his unrelenting warmth and unconditional love.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Omera thinks about last night and more soft and gentle cuteness ensues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Change of plans! I got impatient and part 2 was turning into a beast so I'm breaking it up into even more parts! Things get mildly steamy in this chapter too
> 
> Once again BIG shoutout to TheHeartOfAMandalorian for being my beta and sounding board and overall amazing source of encouragement! This fic would not exist without her!

The first thing Omera notices when her eyes flutter open is that it's early—very early. She can see the sun just starting to peek over the horizon through the open window in the barn. The next thing she notices is that she's hot. She blushes as she realizes it's because she rolled over to the other side of the bedroll sometime during the night and took the entire blanket with her, leaving Din with nothing. She knows it will take a while for her to learn how to share a bed again.

She smiles as she thinks about _who_ she'll be sharing her bed with for the foreseeable future and rolls over to look at Din—still sleeping peacefully. Clearly the lack of blanket hadn't disturbed him in the least (she still feels bad though, and rearranges the blanket so both of them are covered). It's the most relaxed she's ever seen him—despite the fact that he's still wearing his chest plate. She remembers how embarrassed he'd been about it last night, requesting to keep it on. She didn't judge him one bit. Intimacy is still new for him and she'll wait however long she has to for him to be completely comfortable with her. They have all the time in the world, after all.

Omera thinks back to last night. She had been surprised to feel his bare skin against her—no gloves or vambraces—and she can only imagine how much courage it had taken him to remove them. Before that, the only armor that had ever been removed was the thigh guards and weapons belt. She feels her face flush as she remembers how that had happened the last time he was on Sorgan—her straddling his thighs and kissing him on the bed, much different from how their first kiss went.

_It was pitch dark in the barn once the lantern was turned off. She remembers how he'd grabbed her hands and brought them up to touch the sides of his helmet and she recalls how hard her heart was pounding at the thought of what was about to happen. The cool steel was a welcome sensation against her hot skin._

_She heard the sound of him placing the helmet on the table and then felt his hands circling her wrists gently as he brought them up to his face. She could feel the scratch of stubble under her fingers and smiled at the sensation. He was still wearing the gloves but she could imagine that his hands were rough and calloused from handling a blaster. He smelled like blaster smoke and leather. She spent the next few minutes mapping out his face with her fingertips—trying to fill in the blanks in her mind. The hand he was using to support her dug into her hip and she could imagine that his other hand was clenched into a fist. “Is this okay?” she whispered._

_“Yes,” he breathed out, shakily. “I've just... never done anything like this before.”_

_She could tell he was embarrassed about it and rubbed his cheek gently with her thumb in an effort to soothe him. Then she moved her thumb to his lower lip, to orient herself for what she was about to do._

_She leaned in and whispered, “I'm going to kiss you now. Is that okay?”_

_She felt him nod and then she gently brushed her lips against his._

Since that first night, Din has become much more confident with showing physical affection. He was extremely awkward at first, and needed her to initiate things, but he's a fast learner and quickly figured out what drives her crazy. However, this is all still relatively new to him, and it's easy to forget that when he has her pinned to the wall and is kissing her neck. She's embarrassed as she thinks back on how the rest of last night had initially gone after she accepted his marriage proposal.

_Din pulled her closer and captured her lips in another kiss. Her hands drifted from where they sat on his pauldrons to around his neck. He had certainly come a long way since their first kiss._

_He broke the kiss and she almost protested until he turned his attention to her neck and collarbone. The rasp of stubble on her skin combined with the wet warmth of his mouth was enough to make her lightheaded and her knees weak._

_She buried one hand in his hair and pulled his head closer. He got the hint and Omera bit back a moan as his teeth gently nipped at her collarbone. She was so lost in the moment that she didn't even think before she tugged at the edge of his chestplate—indicating she wanted it off—and it took her a few seconds to realize that Din had stopped kissing her and had pulled back completely._

_She blushed as she realized what she'd just done and she was quick to apologize._

_The confidence that he had shown mere moments ago was gone and she felt guilty. She moved her hands to rest on his pauldrons again and gave him a few minutes to compose himself._

_“Are you okay?” she asked._

_“Yes. I'm just... not ready for—”_

_“You don't have to be,” she interjected. “We'll take this as slow as you need to. I just forgot myself for a second.”_

_He looked away and sighed. “This pace is probably frustrating for you.”_

_She reached up to touch his cheek and turned his head back to face her. “This pace is perfectly fine for me.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him gently, hoping to ease some of his anxieties. She internally breathed a sigh of relief when he visibly relaxed. “Why don't we focus on getting some sleep?” She couldn't see his face clearly but she_ knew _there were dark circles under his eyes and that he probably hadn't been sleeping very well, based on past visits._

_He nodded and then sheepishly admitted that he rarely took off all of his armor when he slept._

_“That's okay,” she told him._

_“I don't want you to be uncomfortable,” he protested, as he moved to sit in a chair so he could remove what armor he_ was _comfortable taking off._

_Omera followed him and giggled. “It's not like this is the first time we've cuddled while you were wearing your armor.” It was a pretty common occurance, actually. He always protested about her being uncomfortable and she always countered that by snuggling even closer to him._

_He paused his movements. “I guess that's true.” He finished removing the thigh guards and toed off his boots._

_She stepped in between his legs and touched a pauldron. “Can I help?” she whispered._

_He didn't answer right away. Instead he wrapped his arms around her and stretched up to give her a gentle kiss. She leaned down to make it easier for him. “Is that a yes?” she asked._

_He nodded._

_Omera started with the cloak—watching his face carefully for nonverbal cues. He let her unwind the cloak from around his neck and she set it aside on the table. She leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against his neck. “Is this okay?”_

_Din nodded again and she moved her hands to his pauldrons. He showed no outward sign of discomfort and she took that as a good sign._

_Next, her hands drifted to his cuirass—making no move to remove it. He tensed up and she immediately moved her hands to his shoulders and kissed his cheek. He let out a sigh of relief and pulled her closer to him, resting his cheek on her stomach. She ran her fingers through his hair and pressed a kiss to the top of his head._

_“I'm sorry,” he said._

_“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she soothed, with another kiss. “Let's get some sleep.”_

She looks over at him now—mouth slightly agape and hair half sticking up—and smiles. She never thought she would ever be this happy again. She tries to resist the urge to kiss him—he needs all the sleep he can get. But she can't resist and leans over to kiss him gently.

One of Din's eyes pops open and he smiles sleepily. Omera brings one hand up to hold his face, several days worth of stubble tickling her palm, and kisses him again.

He kisses back and mumbles, “Sorry, I need to shave.”

She laughs softly. “I like the scruff.”

He lets out an amused huff and snakes an arm around her waist to pull her closer and falls right back to sleep.

Omera is too wired to fall back to sleep though. As happy as she is, she knows there's one more thing she needs to do before she can go through with marrying Din—she needs to talk to Winta. Her daughter has warmed up to the Mandalorian considerably since their first meeting, but is still intimidated by him. It's just been the two of them since Winta was born and while Omera knows she loves Din's son like a baby brother, she's still not sure how Winta will feel about them officially joining their own “clan of two”.

It's still very early though and being wrapped up in Din's arms is comforting. Omera can feel her eyes getting heavy and soon she joins him in sleep.

She wakes up a few hours later—still early but not crack of dawn early. Winta will be waking up soon. Omera wakes Din with a gentle kiss and once she has his attention, she tells him, “I should get back before Winta wakes up.”

He nods in response. “I should check on the kid, too.”

“I'll check on him for you.” The kids had a sleepover last night. “You should get more sleep.”

He grumbles in response and she laughs softly. He sighs and says, “I'm already awake, might as well get up.”

He sits up and stretches and she does the same. She can only imagine the state her hair must be in. She combs it out with her fingers and braids it back from her face. She watches as Din starts putting his armor on and she makes a joke about using his chestplate as a mirror. He lets out an amused huff at her statement, as he reaches for his helmet.

“Can I?” she asks tentatively—reaching her hands out.

He pauses for a second before handing it over and leaning down so she can place it on his head. Her eyes drink in his features greedily—as if she'll never get the opportunity to see his face again. His kind eyes are a warm brown and his crooked smile makes her knees weak. She steps up to him and he automatically moves his hands to rest on her hips. Finally, she gives him one last lingering kiss before placing the helmet on his head—obscuring his face once more.

“I need to go talk to Winta,” she says softly.

He leans down to rest the front of his helmet against her forehead and she nudges back. “Of course. Can't get married without her blessing,” he replies, just as softly, and she almost regrets having to leave and face the rest of the day. Omera craves these intimate moments with Din. It's a side of him no one else ever gets to see.

She breathes out a sigh of relief but makes no move to separate from him. “Thank you for understanding. I don't think she'll say no, but it's also just been the two of us since she was a baby so I'm not sure how she'll react.”

“Truthfully, I meant to talk to her about it before asking but the moment just felt right.”

The idea of him getting permission from her daughter warms her heart but she's also glad things played out the way they did. She wouldn't change it for the world. She presses a kiss to the cheek of Din's helmet before reluctantly stepping back. “I'll bring you some breakfast once I talk to Winta.”

He squeezes her hand and says, “Thank you.”

Omera can hear Winta's giggles from across the hut as soon as she steps inside their home. She takes a deep breath as she braces for the conversation she's about to have with her daughter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din bonds with Winta and has more cute moments with Omera!

Winta's trying (and failing) to teach the baby a clapping game when she hears a “Knock knock?” from her mother outside her bedroom door.

“Hi Mama!” she says. “Where were you this morning?”

Her mother steps into the room. “Oh, I was just spending some time with Mando.” Mama seemed to spend a _lot_ of time with the Mandalorian. “Actually, that's what I want to talk to you about.”

Mama takes a seat on her bed and takes a deep breath. “He... asked me to marry him.”

Oh. Winta hadn't been expecting that. She likes Mando. He's really polite and super cool (especially when he uses his jetpack), but she's always worried that she's bothering him. She's not _scared_ of him, but she tries not to bother him as little as possible. She's not used to not being able to read a person's facial expressions and it makes interacting with Mando difficult. Mama always tells her he's not mad all the time but Winta sometimes has a hard time believing that. She's never been _quite_ sure what's been going on between him and Mama but she knows he seems to make Mama happy.

Winta's never had a dad before. Hers died before she was born and it's just been her and Mama ever since. “Do I have to call him Dad?” she asks tentatively. She likes Mando, but she's not sure if she's ready to call him Dad.

“Of course not, sweetie,” her mother says soothingly.

“And he'd be my baby brother?” she asks, looking down at the child in her arms.

Mama reaches over and rubs one of his big green ears and he coos in response. “Yes, he would be.”

Winta is warming up to the idea of her mother getting married again, but then suddenly has a horrifying thought and panics. “We don't have to _move_ , do we?”

Mama laughs gently. “No, we're staying right here. But Mando and the baby won't be here all the time.” Winta's smile drops at that statement. They were leaving? Again? Mama's quick to continue, “But they'll always come back.” Winta perks up again at that.

Mama sighs and grabs her hand. “I know this is a big change for you, but I won't do this unless you're okay with it. Mando will understand.”

It makes Winta feel important—being a part of this decision—and she knows exactly how she feels about it now. She throws her arms around her mother. “I'm okay with it. It'll be weird at first but I'll get used to it.”

Mama hugs her back tightly and kisses the top of her head. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Can I help plan the wedding?”

Mama laughs. “Of course you can. You'll have to ask Mando what goes into planning a Mandalorian wedding though.”

* * *

Din is cleaning the pulse rifle just to give his hands something to do when Omera shows up with a tray of food for him. She sets it on the table and he sets the rifle aside so he can grab her hand. “Thank you. How did your talk with Winta go?”

He can tell it went well by the big smile on her face but he still wants to hear her say it. She steps in between his legs and rests her hands on his pauldrons. “She approves.”

He lets out a breath he hadn't even known he was holding. Things had certainly improved between them since their first meeting, when he almost accidentally drew a blaster on her, but he knows the girl is still intimidated by him. Unfortunately, he's not quite sure how to remedy that. He was never very close to anyone—least of all the foundlings—in his covert. He was too busy hunting down bounties in order to provide for all of them. The foundlings were never scared of him though. The armor, weapons, and never being able to see any of the adults' faces were commonplace for them.

He voices his concerns to Omera. She thinks about it for a second before saying, “Telling her your name would probably be a good first step.”

Din is honored that Omera hadn't done that for him. She understands how rare it is for a Mandalorian to tell an outsider their name. He's, of course, planning on telling Winta his name, and showing her his face, but it has to be something he _chooses_ to do. It's not for anyone else to do for him. Truthfully, he's not sure he'd even have ever told _Cara_ his name, if Moff Gideon hadn't taken the decision out of his hands.

Omera's hands drift from his pauldrons to the sides of his helmet—silently asking for permission to remove it, which he grants with a nod. She takes it off and sets it aside gently on the table and smiles once she can see his face. He can't help but smile back.

Her hands move to cup his jaw and he turns his head to kiss her palm softly. She leans down and whispers, “Seeing your face would also definitely help.” And then she's kissing him. He pulls her closer and deepens the kiss.

He's trying to figure out how to ask her to stay when she does it for him. She pulls back and asks breathlessly, “Want some company while you eat?”

“Yes,” he breathes, before capturing her lips in another heated kiss.

* * *

By the time Din actually gets around to eating breakfast, the food is starting to get cold, but he doesn't mind. Omera reluctantly tells him she needs to get to the ponds and gives him one last lingering kiss before hurrying out of the barn.

He dons his helmet once more and sits there for a minute. He knows he should probably talk to Winta sooner rather than later. Talking to a ten year old should _not_ be this nerve-wracking and yet Din feels more prepared to take on another mudhorn than have that inevitable conversation.

He supposes the first step is to even _find_ her, so he forces himself to get up and leaves the barn in search of Winta and the child. He finds the two of them sitting on the porch of Omera's hut and he slows his steps. Din takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. He supposes the best approach is to treat her like a tiny adult. Winta's mature enough to have picked up that something more than friendship was happening between him and her mother.

As he gets within earshot, he can hear Winta telling the kid, “You're gonna be my new baby brother, because our parents are getting married.”

He cuts into the conversation, “And are you okay with that?”

Winta yelps at the sudden intrusion and Din internally kicks himself. He was doing _great_ so far. He crouches down until he's at eye level with both children and asks again, gently, “Are you okay with me marrying your mother?”

She looks down at her lap and shrugs. “It'll be weird at first, but I'll get used to it, I guess.”

That's not good enough for Din though, and he can feel himself shaking with nerves. Winta looks up and obviously notices his body language because the next thing out of her mouth is, “Are you nervous about marrying Mama?”

He doesn't answer immediately. He clears his throat and says softly, “I'm more nervous about how _you_ feel about it. I won't go through with it unless you're okay with it.”

“Mama said the same thing. I appreciate that.”

“Of course. I know this is a really big change for you, but I want you to know that I love you and your mother very much and will always do my best to protect you.”

Winta thinks about that for a few seconds and then says softly, “Mama said I don't have to call you Dad...”

“And she's right. I don't expect you to call me that right away, or even at all, if you don't want to.”

“So... if I don't call you Dad, what _do_ I call you? Your name's not actually Mando, is it?”

He smiles under the helmet. Now is his opportunity. “You can call me Din.”

Winta repeats the name slowly, as if she's testing it out to see if she likes it. Eventually, she smiles and says, “That name's a lot better than Mando.”

“It's a secret though. You and your mother are the only ones who know it.” Well, them and Karga and Cara, but those last two weren't by choice.

Winta nods and says seriously, “I'm good at keeping secrets.”

Din laughs quietly. “I'm sure you are.” He reaches out to rub one of the kid's big green ears and then asks, “So what have you two been up to?”

And then Winta launches into a retelling of all the shenanigans the two of them have managed to get up to, not just today, but in the last week. Din hangs on to every word and thinks that he could definitely get used to this.

* * *

It's late and Din is busy making modifications on the little one's new pod when he hears Omera say, “Knock, knock?”

He doesn't look up from his work as he replies, “Come in.”

She sets the food down in front of him on the table and peers over his shoulder to see what he's doing—one hand resting lightly on his pauldron. He sets his tools down and gently grabs Omera's hand in his own. She hugs him from behind with her other arm and kisses the side of his helmet.

Din closes his eyes and leans into the contact. “I talked to Winta,” he tells her. “I know you already did, but I wanted to talk to her myself.”

“And how did it go?” Omera asks softly, thumb stroking over his chestplate.

“I... think it went well. I told her my name.”

“I'm proud of you,” she tells him, with another kiss to his helmet. He twists around in the chair so he can press the front of his helmet to her forehead in a proper Keldabe kiss. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to all this affection.

Growing up as a Mandalorian after swearing the Creed meant that he spent most of his teenage and adult life in isolation. And that had suited him just fine until recently—he never imagined he'd ever find anyone, and also had no desire to do so. And then he met Omera.

Not being able to remove the helmet in front of anyone had never bothered him until he met her. It had taken him a while to figure out why.

Until he landed on Sorgan, almost everything was about business or survival. Everyone was either patting him on the back for another successful bounty hunt before giving him another job—or trying to kill him. Sometimes it was both at the same time.

Omera was genuine, and kind. She cared about _him_ and his well-being. Her question about the helmet when they first met might have come across as offensive coming from anyone else, but not from her. It came from a place of genuine curiosity, and concern.

When she'd suggested the idea of him staying and raising his son (he didn't even realize until much later that he only started thinking of the kid that way after _that_ moment) in the village, for the first time in his life, he was tempted. It seemed like something that could actually be a reality for one split second. But he wasn't ready to give up the only way of life he'd known since childhood.

Meeting Bo-Katan had flipped his entire worldview on its head. To think that he _could_ have had the life he'd dreamed about with Omera _and_ still have been allowed to be a Mandalorian was too much to deal with, and for the first time ever, the helmet felt constricting and claustrophobic. He'd locked himself in the berth and ripped the helmet off, and he hadn't come out until he heard the little one crying. He'd decided then that finding the Jedi could wait, and had promptly changed course for Sorgan.

He's brought back to the present when he feels Omera's fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, just under the helmet. He pulls back so he can remove the helmet—suddenly needing to see her with his own eyes—and she smiles as his face is revealed. Her hands move to run freely through his hair and he closes his eyes and tries not to pass out from the sensation. Even after all this time, he's not used to someone being soft and gentle with him.

One of her hands moves to cup his jaw and she leans down to kiss him softly. “You shaved,” she whispers, barely pulling away to speak.

“I did,” he confirms, before capturing her lips in another soft kiss.

She runs her hand over the stubble he'd left there (he remembered her comment from this morning). “I like it.”

He could keep kissing her all night if she'd let him, but his stomach chooses that moment to growl loudly.

Omera laughs softly. “Go ahead and eat before it gets cold.”

“Stay and keep me company?” he asks, as he grabs her hand.

“Of course,” she replies, before taking a seat on his knee. She leans back so her head is resting on his pauldron and he wraps his arm around her, pulling her close.

Most of his meal is spent in comfortable silence, until Omera says, “So, I've been thinking.” Din hums in acknowledgment and she continues, “It might be best if you and your son just move your things into our hut officially. That way Winta could get used to you being there. The baby's already there most of the time anyway.”

He takes a sip of water and thinks about it. It's true that the kid has been staying with Winta almost every night during this particular visit. This is mostly due to the fact that his pod took a pretty hard beating on Trask and Din ended up having to build another one from spare parts (Kuiil had taught him a thing or two during his time on the Razor Crest). But it also made both Winta and the kid happy. Moving in is a logical next step and if this morning was any indication, Winta's definitely starting to warm up to him.

“Okay,” he agrees. Omera smiles and leans in to kiss him.

* * *

A few days after moving his things, it happens. He's on his way back from making some minor repairs on the Crest (damn Mon Calamari had made a mess and barely fixed anything), when he hears a scream coming from the village. He turns on the thermal tracking in his helmet and his stomach sinks as he sees several sets of footprints leading into the village. Another raid, he guesses. The Klatooinians must not have got the memo that he was back for good.

He draws his blaster and prepares himself for the chaos that he's about to run into.

Most villagers are running but some are fighting. He scans the crowd for Omera and Winta and then he hears another scream. He sees Winta—frozen in fear as she watches the destruction happening around her.

He shoots two raiders that are running towards her and then scoops her up. “Winta,” he says in her ear—shooting another raider. “I want you to close your eyes and cover your ears.”

She claps her hands over her ears and whimpers.

A blaster bolt whizzes past his ear and hits a raider that's trying to steal several baskets of krill. He chances a glance over his shoulder and sees Omera with the rifle she'd used in the battle against the AT-ST, and he can't help but smile under the helmet as he briefly remembers the first time he saw her shoot.

Together, they take out several more raiders, and once the Klatooinians realize who they're dealing with, they beat a hasty retreat. Din's pretty sure they'll be staying away for good this time.

The destruction isn't as bad as he expected. The raiders had made off with several baskets of krill and had knocked over several barrels of spotchka but no carnage besides the bodies of the Klatooinians that Omera and Din had managed to shoot.

“Are they gone?” Winta asks, voice muffled from her face being buried in his cloak.

He holsters his blaster. “Yeah, they're gone.”

He sets Winta down on her feet and they both hear Omera's frantic voice calling for her daughter.

“Mama!” Winta yells back, running towards her mother. Din follows close behind.

Omera hugs her daughter tightly and kisses the top of her head. “Are you okay?”

“Din protected me,” Winta says shyly, and she pulls back from the hug to look at him. “Thank you.”

He nods in acknowledgement and then asks, “Where's the kid?”

“I put him down for his nap about thirty minutes ago,” Omera tells him. She pulls him into the hug with one arm and kisses the cheek of his helmet.

He's surprised when he feels Winta put her arm around him as well and he looks down to see her smiling at him shyly. He smiles under the helmet—this is a big step for her. “I told you I'd always protect you,” he says, pulling both of them closer.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's got everything! Din and Winta bonding, pure fluff, and mild steaminess!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was turning into a beast so I'm splitting it up into at least one more part! Happy thanksgiving!
> 
> As usual, a BIG shoutout to TheHeartOfAMandalorian for being the bestest beta reader ever! This fic wouldn't exist without her

“Okay, let's try this again,” Din mutters under his breath, as he hits a few buttons. “Does he have the wires?” He glances over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Winta says, not looking away from the hole in the wall. Then she turns to look at Din. “You really think this will work?”

_Absolutely not_ , Din thinks. But he says, “Not sure, but it's worth a shot.”

He gets up out of his seat and crouches down so he can see what the kid is doing. He's holding a blue wire in one tiny green claw and a red one in the other. Din wishes he had another option but even Winta's arms won't fit back there. The baby is the perfect size.

“Okay, show me the blue wire,” he instructs. The kid looks at each wire for a minute before holding up the correct one. “Good. Okay, now I want you to put the blue wire where the red wire was. And put the red one where the blue one was.”

He goes back and forth with the kid several times—getting increasingly frustrated, but never raising his voice or losing his temper. Unfortunately, he's not sure how he can simplify his speech any more so the toddler can understand. Winta looks back and forth between them with a skeptical look on her face.

“No no no! Do _not_ let them touch!”

Too late.

He and Winta flinch back as sparks fly. Once the smoke clears, he asks, “You okay, kid?”

The child coughs in response.

Din sighs and turns to Winta. “Don't tell your mother about this.”

She giggles but swears to secrecy. Din reaches into the hole and picks the baby up, pulling him out to safety. “I think it's lunchtime for you, you little womp rat.”

The baby just coos in response. Din sighs again. He lets the kid clamber up to his shoulder and grip onto his cloak for purchase. He gestures with one arm to let Winta know she can lead the way home.

“So what are you gonna do now?” she asks, taking a break from all her questions about what all the buttons on his vambraces do.

He looks back towards where the Razor Crest is parked—now hidden amongst the trees. “I'm not sure.” It's not a total lie. He has an _idea_ of what he has to do but it's something he needs to talk to Omera about rather than Winta.

As they make their way back to the village, Winta zips past the ponds, throwing a, “Hi Mama!” over her shoulder to let Omera know they're back.

Omera's eyes meet his visor as he walks by at a much more sedate pace. She smiles and shakes her head at her daughter's antics.

Din catches up to Winta and passes the kid to her. “Can I put you in charge of feeding him?”

He knows the kid is in good hands. Winta takes her job as a big sister very seriously. He smiles as she whisks the little one away and then makes his way to their hut. He plops down in a chair and yanks his helmet off.

“Knock, knock?” he hears Omera's familiar voice. “How are repairs going?”

He sighs and runs his hands through his hair in frustration. She laughs. “That bad, huh?”

She definitely does _not_ need to know that he just accidentally electrocuted his son so he just says, “The damage is worse than I thought.”

She comes closer and he twists in the chair so he's facing her. She steps between his legs and cups his jaw gently. He closes his eyes and leans into the contact. “Anything I can do to help?” she asks softly.

He doesn't know what he did to deserve her. He wraps his arms around her and pulls her closer, paying no mind to her wet clothing. She leans down to rest her forehead against his and he closes his eyes and nudges back. Her hands move to run through his hair and he can instantly feel his shoulders relax. He sighs. “Unfortunately, there's nothing you can do. I'll have to take it somewhere for repairs.”

His options are Peli on Tatooine or Karga on Nevarro. Between the two, Nevarro is closer and frankly, Din's not sure he's ready to see Peli again after what had happened with Frog Lady and her eggs. He'd rather not end up stuck with any new passengers.

He starts to tell Omera his plan but gets distracted when she starts pressing soft kisses along his jawline. His arms tighten around her as her kisses move down, where she nudges his cloak aside with her nose so she can place a lingering kiss on his neck. He can feel his pulse hammering as she pulls back to finish with a gentle kiss to his lips.

She moves her hands to his pauldrons and pulls back with a smile. “Sorry. Got distracted.”

“I'm not complaining,” he whispers back hoarsely.

“Please, continue,” she encourages. He pulls her down to sit on his lap so he doesn't have to stretch so far to kiss her.

He tells her his plan to fly the ship to Nevarro for repairs in between distracting kisses of his own along her neck and collarbone. “When are you leaving?” she asks breathily, as he gently nips at her collarbone—something he'd learned very early on drives her crazy.

He reluctantly pulls back and sighs. “Honestly, I should probably leave now, before something else breaks.”

She laughs. “Can I walk you to your ship?”

“Of course,” he tells her, before kissing her softly. “I just need to grab a few things.”

She stands up and kisses his cheek. “I'll meet you by the ponds.”

Once she leaves, Din puts his helmet back on and grabs the pulse rifle from their room. Then he heads out to find Winta and the kid. Winta, being the good big sister that she is, is helping the little one wipe up the mess he's made while he was eating. Both children look up at him when he approaches.

“I'm gonna be gone for a few days while my ship's being repaired. I'm leaving the little one with you and your mother.”

Winta's eyes light up at that. He takes the little one in his arms and holds him up so he can look him in the eye. “Now, _you_ are gonna stay here and be good for Winta and her mother, okay?” The baby tilts his head and coos. Din pulls him to his chest and rests his helmet on the top of his head. “I'll be back soon, okay?”

He puts the baby back down and is about to turn to leave when he feels a set of arms wrap around his middle. He looks down to see Winta hugging him and he feels a lump in his throat. He hugs her back tightly and rubs her back gently. “Bye Din,” she says softly.

He says good bye back and then heads out to look for Omera. He finds her waiting close to the treeline. He smiles under the helmet and leans down to rest the front of his helmet against her forehead. She nudges him back before pulling back and smiling up at him. “Ready when you are.”

She reaches over and grabs his hand once they're away from the prying eyes of the other villagers. By now, everyone knows what's going on between the two of them and preparations are already being made for the wedding.

Din suddenly feels the need to feel her bare skin against his and tugs his hand free. He doesn't miss the way her smile falters—interpreting his actions as a rejection—and he's quick to reassure her, “I'm just taking my gloves off.” He does just that and her smile returns as he grabs her hand again and squeezes it. She squeezes back.

Before long, they reach the clearing the Razor Crest is parked in. He hits the button on his vambrace that opens the side hatch. It only opens about two-thirds of the way and he sighs. Omera says, “Wow, you weren't kidding.”

He turns to face her. “No, I wasn't. Hopefully she'll even _make_ it to Nevarro in this shape.”

She moves closer to him and he wraps his arms around her waist. Her hands come up to touch the sides of his helmet and he nods to let her know she can take it off. He grabs it from her and lets it fall to the forest floor before her hands move to around his neck so she can pull him down for a desperate kiss. His grip on her waist tightens and he kisses her back just as desperately. They're both breathless once they break the kiss. Omera rolls up on her toes to press her forehead against his. “Please be careful?”

He chuckles. “I'm just getting my ship fixed.”

She laughs softly. “I'm sure you'll run into _some_ kind of trouble.”

She's half joking but they both know she's right. “I'll be careful, I promise,” he assures her.

She buries her face in his cloak. “I'll miss you.”

He kisses the top of her head and holds her close. “I'll miss you too. But I'll be back before you know it. And you can always comm me.”

He gives her one last kiss before boarding his ship. His _kar'ta_ already aches at the idea of being away from her and he knows it's going to be a long few days. He doesn't even have the kid to keep him company this time. He sighs and prepares to make the jump to hyperspace. “Let's just get this over with,” he mumbles to himself.

* * *

Din's been gone for two days and Omera can't sleep. It's been easy to distract herself during the day, between krill farming and keeping the kids out of trouble, but nighttime is when all that loneliness comes back. She's gotten so used to the feel of Din's chestplate against her back and the feel of his arms wrapped tightly around her while they sleep. She misses being woken up in the mornings with kisses along her neck. It's been ten years since she's thought her bed was too big.

She's trying to force herself to close her eyes and sleep when she sees a little red light flickering on the nightstand. She gasps and snatches the commlink up. “Hello?” she says quietly.

Din breathes her name out on the other line, but doesn't say anything more.

Omera sits up. “Did you get your ship fixed? Are you coming home?”

He sighs. “I can't. Not yet.”

Her heart sinks. “What is it? You're scaring me.”

“Moff Gideon is still alive.”

“No,” she gasps. “There's no way he could have survived!”

“That's what I thought, too.” Din tells her about what he'd just discovered and all she can do is listen in horror.

“So what are you going to do?” she asks—dreading the answer. The last time he'd taken on the imperials, he'd almost _died_.

“I can't guarantee that I'm not being tracked, but I have a plan,” he assures her. “Please don't worry.”

How can she _not_? “Just... please promise me you'll come home.” She knows he can't guarantee that, but she needs to hear it anyway, for her own peace of mind. She feels like crying and wishes now more than ever that Din were here to hold her.

“I promise I will come home. All I want you to worry about is planning our wedding.” He's giving her something to focus on, and she loves him dearly for it.

She can't help but smile. “Winta actually asked me if she could help plan the wedding. I told her I don't even know what goes into planning a Mandalorian wedding.”

He chuckles softly and Omera's heart clenches at the sound. He says, “A traditional Mandalorian wedding is actually pretty uneventful. It's just between the two getting married and once they say the vows, that's it. They're married. The party afterwards is with friends and family though.”

“So we could say them right now to each other and be married?”

She can practically see his helmet tilt to the side as he thinks about it. “Hadn't thought about it, but I guess. I wanted the kids to be there for it though.”

Omera can feel herself tearing up. “That sounds perfect.”

“It'll be a good opportunity to show Winta my face.”

“Even better. Can you at least tell me what the vows are?”

“They translate to Basic as: We are one whether we are together or apart, we will share everything, and we will raise our children as warriors.” As she's thinking those words over in her head, he adds, “I'd like to modify that last bit, I think. I don't want Winta to feel like she's required to be trained as a Mandalorian now.”

Omera didn't think it was possible for her to love this man any more than she already does, and she tells him so. He's quiet for several seconds. This isn't the first time she's uttered those three words, but he's never said them back. He doesn't need to though. She can hear it in the way he squeezes her hand, and holds her close at night—making her feel safe, and whenever he kisses her—Mandalorian style or otherwise.

She's about to reassure him that he doesn't need to say it back, when he says quietly, “ _Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum_.”

She doesn't need a translation to understand what he's just said, and the smile on her face hurts her cheeks from how big it is. “I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

He echoes her sentiment and then says, “Try to get some sleep. I'll be back before you know it.”

They talk for a while longer and the sound of his voice is enough to gently lull her to sleep. He lets out a huff of amusement when she yawns mid-sentence. They bid each other good night and for the first time in two days, Omera is able to sleep peacefully.

* * *

Truthfully, there's not much that Omera needs to do to plan for the wedding. The actual wedding is just going to be between her, Din, and the kids and the rest of the village is really just using it as an excuse to have a party. However, Winta had suggested new dresses for the two of them. Omera had already been toying with the idea for a few days—she doesn't _really_ want to get married in the blue-gray dress she normally wears for harvesting krill. This is a special occasion, after all. So with that decided, she takes the kids with her into town so they can get supplies.

Winta holds up two bits of fabric and asks the baby, “Which one do you think is better?”

The little one babbles what sounds like utter nonsense in response, but Winta seems to understand him perfectly. She nods seriously and holds up the fabric in her left hand. “You're right, this one is better.” The fabric in question is a nice vibrant teal color.

Omera watches the interaction and fights the urge to cry. She wishes Din were here to see this. He's comm'd as often as possible, but it's not the same. He's been gone for a week now. All he can do is assure her that he's safe and that Cara is with him.

“She's insisted on coming back with me for the wedding,” he'd told her. “She... didn't expect me to actually ask you to marry me.”

She can only imagine how that interaction had actually gone—Cara teasing Din mercilessly. She told him that she'd set up the barn for their guest.

“Mama, look!” Winta interrupts her musing to show her the fabric she's picked out.

“It's beautiful, sweetie,” Omera tells her. She asks the vendor how much and hands over the credits after picking out a few more items that she'll need.

She gets to work as soon as she gets home—taking both hers and Winta's measurements. And that's how she occupies her time after the krill farming is done for the day.

Finally, after another long week, Din comms. She snatches the commlink up and says urgently, “Hello?” It's been several days since she's heard from him and she had begun to panic.

“I'm on my way home,” he tells her. “Might take a few days.”

She feels the tears fall before she can stop them. “Thank you for letting me know. I was starting to panic.”

She can practically hear the smile in his voice as he says, “I told you I would come home safe.”

She tells him she loves him and he echoes the sentiment in Mando'a—the words coming more easily every time he says them.

It's the longest two days of Omera's life.

* * *

Din bids Cara goodnight as they go their separate ways—her to the barn and him to the hut he shares with Omera.

They'd done it. They defeated Moff Gideon. Din had managed to track down Bo-Katan and she had immediately agreed to help him—for her own reasons, but he wasn't complaining. He was just glad to have the help. He even let her make the kill shot—he just wanted to get home to his family.

He pauses in the doorway of their bedroom and just admires his future _riduur_ from there. She looks so peaceful and he's glad to see her sleeping so well. She'd mentioned more than once how hard it was for her to sleep without him there.

He crosses the room to the chair in the corner and begins removing his armor piece by piece, stacking it neatly on the chair. Before long, he's left with just his cuirass and he curses his inability to remove it in front of anyone, even someone like Omera. Frankly, he's surprised he even had the courage to remove the gloves and vambraces the night he proposed. It's never been the intimacy that he hesitates about—it's the taking the armor off part. He'd be more embarrassed about it if Omera didn't find it such a turn-on.

The armor was safe and comforting. He'd spent several years of his early adulthood needing to be able to draw his blaster at the drop of a hat due to Xi'an's inability to take no for an answer. He lost count over the years of the number of times she tried to climb into his bedroll or sneak up on him to try to remove his helmet. If he wasn't desperate for the work, he would have left Ran's crew much sooner.

The logical part of his brain _knows_ Omera is safe and kind and loving and that he has nothing to worry about, but old habits die hard. He sighs internally. One day he'll feel comfortable removing all the armor but today is clearly not that day.

He moves to the bed and removes his helmet—placing it on the nightstand—before sliding under the covers and wrapping an arm around Omera's waist to pull her close. She stirs briefly but doesn't wake up. Din smiles as he places a soft kiss on her shoulder and then another just above the first. He trails kisses up her neck and back down to her shoulder and he can tell she's awake when he hears her breath hitch. Her hand finds his and squeezes tightly.

She turns around in his arms and before he can even say “hello”, she's attacking him with desperate kisses—peppering his face with them and ending with a kiss on the lips. He kisses her back just as desperately. He had _missed_ this. They're both breathless once they finally break the kiss. Omera's eyes flit over his face, as if she's still trying to convince herself that he's here. He pulls her close and drops a kiss to her forehead before pulling back and pressing his forehead to hers. Her hands come up to touch his face. “I'm so glad you're home. Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Tomorrow,” he promises, before capturing her lips in a heated kiss.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhhh!!!!! Here it is! The final chapter! This one has it all! Mandomera cuteness, family fluff, and lots of spicy content!!
> 
> Once again, BIIIIIIIG shoutout to TheHeartOfAMandalorian for her wonderful encouragement! This fic would not exist without her
> 
> Merry Christmas, everyone!

Omera pushes on his shoulder, indicating that she wants him to roll over. He does and she's quick to swing her leg over his hips so she's straddling him. He gasps as she breaks the kiss and moves to pressing open-mouth kisses along his jawline.

Din's hands sneak under the hem of her nightshirt to grasp her thighs. His breath hitches and his fingers dig in when he feels a sharp sting as she nips at his throat and he can feel her lips curl into a smile as she takes note of his reaction. “Is this okay?” she asks—knowing full well that it is.

All he can do is nod and then he's biting back a moan as she bites him again—harder this time. She soothes the sting with her tongue and then kisses and nibbles her way back up to his lips—kissing him deeply. She pulls back and sits up—fingers splayed over his chestplate. “I'm so glad you're home,” she whispers.

He moves one hand so he can brush a strand of hair out of her eyes. “I'm glad I'm home too,” he whispers back. He didn't think it was possible to be this in love.

She leans down to kiss him again and his hands move—one around her waist and the other between her shoulder blades—to pull her as close as possible. It's not close enough though, and Din is suddenly desperate to get the cuirass off. The armor that had been so comforting mere minutes ago is now a hindrance.

“Wait,” he murmurs against her lips.

Omera pulls back and sits up—brow furrowing in confusion. In answer, Din grasps her hands gently and brings them to his sides over the clasps of his cuirass.

She gasps. “Are you sure?”

He sits up. “Yes.”

He helps her remove the last piece of armor and the underlying flak vest and then he takes one of her hands and places it over his racing _kar'ta_. He flinches at the initial contact but slowly relaxes. His skin feels like it's on fire under the palm of her hand and he exhales shakily. Omera's other hand moves up to the nape of his neck so she can pull him into a gentle kiss.

He kisses her back and then his breath hitches as her hand snakes under the hem of his shirt to caress his bare skin. “Is this okay?” she whispers against his lips.

His arms tighten around her waist and he breathes out a yes before kissing her softly again. Her fingers move with more purpose—tracing random patterns along his stomach and chest—as her lips move unhurriedly against his own. Din finds himself becoming more relaxed the more Omera touches him and before he knows it, his eyes are starting to flutter shut. He shakes himself awake and she pulls back with a quiet laugh—the hand on his stomach stilling. “You must be exhausted,” she says.

“I'm okay,” he insists—leaning in for another kiss.

She turns her head so his lips catch her cheek instead. “We can continue this later. Time for sleep.”

He grumbles but doesn't stop her from sliding off his lap and urging him to lay down on his back. He wraps his arm around her tightly as she lays her head on his chest, right over his still racing _kar'ta_. She presses a kiss to that spot and then stretches up to kiss his lips. “Good night. I love you.”

He echoes the words back to her and then finally lets himself sleep.

* * *

Omera is woken up no more than a few hours later by the sound of little feet pitter-pattering across the hut to their room. She opens her eyes just in time to see a blur of green and brown launch itself onto the bed. The baby almost trips over his robe in his haste to get to his father and when he finally gets to the head of the bed, he jumps up onto Din's chest and bops his little head against Din's nose. She stifles a giggle. Din, on the other hand, is obviously used to this sort of early morning greeting because all he does is sigh and say, “I missed you too, kid,” as he pats the little one on the head.

The baby tilts his head and coos in response. Din picks him up and plops him in between Omera and himself. “Were you good for Mama?” he asks, still half asleep.

Omera leans over to kiss the top of the child's head. “He was an absolute angel.”

Din snorts in disbelief.

The little one wiggles his way under Din's arm so he can curl up right against his side. “Okay, fine,” Din mumbles. “You can stay here for a little while.”

Omera watches the exchange from the other side of the bed with delight. She can imagine Din and the baby having this exact interaction when it's just the two of them on the Razor Crest. He's become such a good father to the little one and he's also become so much more comfortable with Winta. They're truly becoming a family and she can't wait to make it official.

Her musing is interrupted by Din's hand reaching out for her from across the bed. “C'mere,” he says.

She smiles and scoots closer and then lays down. Din rolls over onto his side and wraps his other arm around her, pulling her close. The little one is smushed in between them and snoring away softly. She kisses the top of his fuzzy head and then leans over to kiss Din. “Get some more sleep,” he tells her. It's _very_ early, after all.

The baby's snores combined with Din's warmth are enough to lull Omera back to sleep.

She's not sure how much longer she sleeps, but when she opens her eyes again, it's light out, at least. “Mama?” she hears Winta say. “Is the baby with you?”

“He is, just wait a minute, sweetie.”

She nudges Din awake so he can sit up and put his helmet back on. “You can come in now,” he calls.

At the sound of his voice, Winta runs into the room. “You're back!” she exclaims. And then proceeds to launch herself onto the bed so she can tackle Din with a hug. He grunts as she collides with him but hugs her back tightly.

Winta then proceeds to tell Din everything that he had missed while he was gone. The baby babbles intermittently, as if to remind her of something she'd missed. Din responds occasionally with little comments here and there, pretending he understands what the little one is trying to say, but mostly he just listens—hanging onto every word.

Omera had tried her best to hide from the kids how worried she was about Din, with only partial success. Winta, thankfully, had been completely oblivious but the baby had figured out something was wrong—as if he could sense her inner turmoil. Given what Din has told her of his abilities, that's probably not too far off the mark. She suspects that's why he'd woken them up so early in the morning. He'd sensed that his daddy was home.

Eventually, Winta runs out of things to say and the baby starts getting antsy. Din takes notice and says, “I think he's hungry. Why don't you take him to get breakfast.”

The child's ears perk up at the mention of food, letting everyone know that Din's assessment had been correct. Winta scoops the little one up and takes him to get food, leaving the adults alone once again. They get out of bed and Din immediately reaches for his first piece of armor to put on—his cuirass and the flak vest that goes underneath it.

“Wait,” Omera says, coming around to his side. She wraps her arms around him tightly—comforted by his solid warmth. She presses her ear to his chest so she can listen to his heartbeat. It tells her that he is alive, and safe, and finally home. She isn't dreaming.

He takes the helmet off, placing it on the bed, and then wraps one arm around her waist and brings his other hand up to stroke her hair softly. He buries his nose in it before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“I'm not gonna lie,” she begins, not pulling away from where she is. “You scared me. I was worried I'd never see you again.”

He rubs her back soothingly. “I know. I'm sorry for worrying you, but just know that I will always do my best to stay safe so that I _can_ come back home.

The tears spill over without her permission. What had she done to deserve this man?

“You okay?” he asks.

She nods vigorously. “I'm just so glad you're home,” she manages through the tears. She pulls back so she can kiss him desperately. He pulls her closer and kisses her back just as desperately. “I love you _so_ much,” she gasps once they break the kiss.

“I love you too,” he echoes back, uttering the words in Basic for once.

“Please don't ever scare me like that again.”

He wipes her tears away with his thumbs and says, “I'll do my best, I promise.”

It's all she can hope for. He kisses her softly one more time. “Thank you,” she tells him. Between soft kisses she asks, “Want me to bring you some breakfast?”

“That'd be great, thank you.”

She gives him one last kiss—this time on his neck—before quickly getting dressed and then heading out, leaving him to put his armor back on.

* * *

Din's putting on the last of his armor when he notices the mass of dark teal fabric that had been underneath all of his gear. He assumes it's a dress of some kind, though he can't figure out the shape of it. But what he _does_ take notice of is the embroidered detailing along the collar and sleeves. It's a hypnotic swirl of interlocking circles stitched with silver thread. He realizes, when he sees that the pattern is unfinished, that Omera must be the one making the dress—and that she'd done all of that painstaking embroidery _by hand_.

He hears footsteps behind him and turns to see Omera standing next to him. She gestures to the dress. “Winta suggested new dresses for the wedding.”

“It's beautiful,” he replies—already picturing Omera in it.

“It's how I kept myself occupied while you were gone. I even let Winta help me a little bit.” She points out bits of the embroidery that are uneven and then continues, “It's been mostly me though. Just... stitching until I couldn't stay awake any longer.”

He instantly feels guilty for being the reason she needed to resort to that extreme in the first place. He wraps his arms around her tightly. “I'm sorry.”

She looks up at him and smiles. “You have nothing to apologize for. You did what you needed to do and now you're home safe and sound. That's the important thing.”

She braces herself against his chestplate so she can stretch up to kiss him softly. She retreats much too quickly and his mouth chases hers to pull her into another kiss. Her hands move to his hair so she can rake her fingers through it—pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. In response, he starts walking them backwards towards the bed—letting himself tumble backwards onto the mattress and pulling her down with him.

They continue their urgent kisses as she readjusts so she's straddling him. Without breaking the kiss, he reverses their positions so he's hovering over her—careful not to crush her under his armor. And then it's _his_ turn to attack her neck with kisses and bites that he soothes with his tongue. She moans softly when he hits a particularly sensitive spot and he smiles against her neck—making note of her reaction for future use.

“Food's probably getting cold,” she gasps, as he kisses _that_ spot again.

“Don't care,” he mumbles against her collarbone.

* * *

They eventually relocate to the table, where Din isn't surprised to see two portions of everything. Neither one of them is eager to spend more time apart than is strictly necessary after such a long separation. Omera looks slightly embarrassed. “I hope you don't mind. I can leave if you'd rather eat alone.”

“I don't mind. You never even have to ask.”

She sits on his lap while they eat and between bites of food and soft kisses, he tells her about what had transpired while he was gone. He leaves out some details, not wanting her to worry, but she's still horrified by his account. He can't say he blames her. He's honestly not sure how things would have gone without Bo-Katan and her small covert.

He hugs Omera tightly and presses a soft kiss to her forehead. “The important thing is that he's dead and he can't hurt the kid or you or Winta again.”

Before she can say anything back, they hear Cara yell from outside, “Hey Mando! What's taking so long?”

He sighs and Omera laughs. It's mid-morning by now and he'd mentioned to Cara last night that the first thing he does everyday is a perimeter check. “I'll be right out,” he calls back.

Omera slides off his lap to retrieve his helmet from their room. He follows so he can grab the pulse rifle. When he reaches her side he leans down to press his forehead to hers and she nudges back before giving him a lingering kiss. He tries to steal one more kiss but Omera turns her head with a gentle laugh. “If we start that up again we'll never leave this hut.”

She has a point, and he reluctantly grabs his helmet from her and puts it back on. She gives him one last hug and kisses the cheek of his helmet before hurrying to the ponds.

Cara's sitting in the chair on the porch when he finally emerges from the hut. “Well look who _finally_ decided to get up!” she teases.

Din just glares at her from behind his visor and clips the pulse rifle to his back. They're almost to the treeline when Cara casually remarks, “Was that a bite mark I saw on Omera's neck?”

He almost trips and can feel his face and neck heating while Cara cackles with delight.

* * *

The wedding day is finally here. Winta had helped Omera finish the last of the embroidery the night before while Din did weapons and armor maintenance and the baby used the rest of the dress as a blanket.

She wills time to go faster as she works in the ponds. It's not something she can take the day off from, after all. But _finally_ , the work is done for the day and the other villagers are encouraging her to go and get ready while they finish up.

Winta helps braid teal ribbons and flowers through her hair. Omera looks in the mirror and almost doesn't recognize herself. The dress isn't exactly fancy, but it _is_ the nicest dress she's ever owned. It's dark teal and floor-length, with bell sleeves and a scoop neckline. The dress splits in the middle, revealing the white underskirt and laces up in the back. The embroidery detailing goes along the neckline, sleeves, and hem, as well as the waistline and where the dress splits. She's quite proud of the final product.

“Wait right here!” Winta orders, before dashing to her room.

Omera looks over at the baby sitting on the bed. He's playing with his favorite silver ball and cooing. She smiles and crouches down, reaching out to stroke one of his big green ears. “What do you think your sister is up to, huh?”

He tilts his head and coos, making Omera laugh.

Winta runs back into the room and almost knocks her mother over in her haste. She stops herself just in time and thrusts her hands out. “Look what I made, Mama!”

In her hands is a simple flower crown, made of the same blue and white flowers that adorn Omera's hair. Winta's wearing a matching one on her own head. “It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen,” Omera says, truthfully.

Winta places the flower crown on Omera's head and then grabs her hand. “Come on, let's go! Din's waiting outside!”

Her heart skips a beat at the mention of his name. She's about to marry her knight in shining beskar. The baby leads the way outside, with Winta following—pulling Omera along behind her. Din's leaning against the side of the hut, next to the door, but immediately straightens once he sees them. She can't see his face but based on how intensely his visor is trained on her, she has a very strong suspicion that his jaw is dropped under that helmet of his.

She smiles shyly. “What do you think?”

He steps closer to her and reaches out to grab her hand. “ _Mesh'la_ ,” he says. _Beautiful_.

She can feel her face heating as she squeezes his hand in thanks.

“Come on!” Winta cries. “The sun's going down, we gotta go!”

Din chuckles at Winta's antics and tells her, “Lead the way.”

Winta leads the way into the forest, with the baby not far behind. Omera and Din follow at a much more sedate pace—holding hands the whole time.

Once they're in the forest, Din squeezes her hand and says, “Hold on.”

Omera stops and turns to face him. He tugs on her hand to bring her closer to him. “I haven't gotten a chance to do this yet.” He leans down to rest the front of his helmet against her forehead.

She smiles and brings one hand up to the nape of his neck so she can pull him closer as she nudges back.

“Are you absolutely sure about this?” he asks nervously, one hand coming up to hold her waist.

She pulls back just enough so she can look into his visor—picturing his kind brown eyes looking back at her. “More sure than I've ever been about anything.”

The hand on her waist tightens and all she wants to do is take his helmet off so she can kiss him properly. The kids are already pretty far ahead of them though, so she settles for a kiss to the cheek of his helmet, and she tells herself there will be plenty of time for kissing later.

* * *

Din's brain short-circuits the second Omera's lips touch the side of his helmet. He can almost feel the kiss on his bare skin. He still can't believe she actually wants to marry him. It's not something he feels like he deserves. Omera is kind and soft and gentle—the complete opposite of him. He's killed more people than he can possibly count—it's inevitable when you're a bounty hunter. Some, like Gor Koresh, deserved it, but others were harder to justify.

Omera squeezes his hand and starts walking again, and he follows. He would follow her anywhere. He's suddenly glad for his gloves as his palms start sweating. He repeats the Mando'a vows in his head over and over again to distract himself.

“You okay?” she asks. Clearly he's terrible at hiding how nervous he is.

“Just nervous,” he admits. “Never really expected to ever get married. It wasn't something I was interested in.”

“If it makes you feel better, I'm nervous too. I never thought I'd find anyone else after my first husband died.”

“We're almost there!” Winta calls from several yards ahead. She's carrying the little one now—his little legs probably couldn't keep up.

Omera smiles shyly at him and he nods in response. Together, they hurry to catch up to the children. They find themselves in a small clearing with a small stream running through the middle of it. The sun is just starting to dip below the treetops and Din can see the first of Sorgan's twin moons rising in the distance.

Winta leads them to the middle of the clearing and Din takes a deep breath before turning to face Omera and grasping her hands gently. “Are you ready?” he asks.

She smiles and nods, giving his hands a squeeze to reassure him further.

“Okay, repeat after me.” He takes it one line at a time, translating after each one.

_Mhi solus tome,_

We are one,

_Mhi solus dar'tome,_

Whether we are together or apart,

_Mhi me'dinui an,_

We will share everything,

_Mhi ba'juri kotep bal kotyc._

We will raise our children to be strong and brave.

Omera only stumbles over one or two words, but is still embarrassed by her mistakes. He squeezes her hand and nods to encourage her and finally, the vows are said and done. He tugs on her hand to bring her closer and she moves her other hand to his pauldron. She rolls up on her toes to press her forehead to the front of his helmet. He lets go of her hand to wrap his arms around her waist—pulling her closer. Her other hand comes up to the nape of his neck—toying with the hair there, just under the rim of his helmet.

After several moments, she steps back to look into his visor and her hands move to the sides of his helmet. He nods and she slowly lifts it up before letting it fall to the ground. She smiles at him. She looks even more beautiful now that he can see her with his own eyes, rather than through the filter of his helmet. She cups his jaw and pulls him down so she can kiss him softly. “I love you,” she whispers against his lips.

He repeats the words in Mando'a before capturing her lips in another gentle kiss.

He hears a coo off to his left and turns to smile at the kids. He crouches down just in time for the baby to clamber up to his knee so he can bop his little head against Din's nose. He likes giving headbutts—as he's seen the adults do so often—but unfortunately he never _quite_ manages to hit Din's forehead.

He holds the kid close and looks over at Winta. She tilts her head to the side as she studies his bare face. After several long seconds, she finally says, “I expected you to look a lot grumpier.”

Din laughs and then grunts as the girl collides with his chest as she throws her arms around his neck. He hugs her back and presses a kiss to the top of her head before turning to kiss the little one's forehead. He can definitely get used to this.

* * *

Din decides to keep his helmet off for the journey back to the village—which Omera seems grateful for. She takes as many opportunities as possible to stop and kiss him freely while the kids are distracted. Sorgan's twin moons let enough light filter through the trees that walking without his helmet on in the dark isn't an issue. All too soon, they approach the sounds of voices and laughter. Omera holds her hands out for his helmet and he hands it over, stepping closer to her in the process. She gives him one last lingering kiss before placing the helmet back over his head again.

There's a bonfire already going in the center of the village and Din is grateful for the helmet's protection as it hides his blush every time someone congratulates him and Omera. He's never enjoyed being the center of attention and Omera knows it. She leans up to ask him, “Do you want me to bring some food to the barn for you?”

He shakes his head. It would be rude to disappear to the barn when he's one half of the couple being celebrated, after all. “I'm good, but thank you.”

She looks at him skeptically. “When's the last time you ate?”

He's not going to lie and say he's not hungry so he makes a decision. “I'll be fine with just some soup.”

Omera smiles kindly at him and kisses the side of his helmet. “Okay, I'm gonna go get the kids settled for dinner.”

He nods and goes to find a nice isolated corner in the common house to wait for her. Having said all their congratulations already, the other villagers respectfully leave him alone, which he's grateful for. Omera appears at his side with a tray of food for herself and a bowl of soup for him. He thanks her as he takes the bowl from the tray and contemplates what he's about to do.

Nothing about his interactions with Bo-Katan had endeared her to him or made him even think about relaxing his Creed to the same extent, but it _had_ made him more comfortable with _bending_ the rules a bit. He uses one hand to lift the helmet up just enough for him to take a long sip from the bowl. It's much better than the supply of broth he keeps on the Crest. Just as his mouth touches the rim of the bowl a second time, he feels a pair of lips against the underside of his jaw and he jumps.

Omera giggles and buries her face in his cloak. He can see her cheeks redden and it makes him smile. “Sorry,” she says. “Couldn't resist.”

He swallows thickly. “I don't mind.”

In response, she places an open-mouth kiss to that same spot and his fingers grip the bowl of soup he's holding just a little bit tighter.

Before too long, the villagers make their way outside where there's already music playing. Winta runs up to them and tugs on her mother's hand. “Come on, Mama! Let's dance!”

Omera laughs and lets her daughter pull her outside. Din follows closely. He finds a spot on the periphery of the party and watches as Winta dances with the little one and her mother. He's not a dancer himself, and Omera knows it. He's content to just sit back and watch everyone else have a good time.

He sees Winta showing the baby some dance moves and watches as seemingly every man in the village dances with Omera. She glances over at him periodically between dances and beams at him.

She takes a break from dancing after several songs and Din's helmet follows her movements as she makes her way over to him. Her face is flushed from the heat of the bonfire, the dancing, and the several flagons of spotchka she's consumed since the music started.

He grabs her hand and pulls her towards him. She stumbles and he's quick to catch her. “Are you drunk?” he asks.

She grins up at him and rests her hands on his pauldrons. “I am pleasantly tipsy.”

He lets out an amused chuckle and pulls her closer. Omera cuddles as close as she can with all the beskar in between them. He rubs her back gently. “Having fun?”

She nods and stretches up so she can nudge his cloak aside with her nose and place a soft kiss right over his racing pulse. His arms tighten around her and then he jumps when he feels her teeth graze his neck.

It's her turn to laugh at his reaction, and then he's biting back a moan when she sinks her teeth in harder, before soothing the sting with her tongue. She continues to torture him with more kisses and nips along the length of his throat, nudging his cloak aside to gain access to more skin. “I'm gonna get you back for this,” he gasps, when she nips at _that_ spot again.

She looks up at him with a wicked grin. “Promise?”

His fingers dig into her lower back—it takes every ounce of self control he has to not react outwardly. She would be the death of him.

Omera laughs again and ends her torture with a gentle kiss to the underside of his jaw, just under the helmet. Then she rests her head on his chestplate—right over his _kar'ta_. It's beating so fast he wouldn't be surprised if she could feel it through the beskar.

He holds her close and rests his helmet on the top of her head in lieu of a kiss.

Eventually, Winta interrupts their moment to pull her mother back into another dance and Din goes back to quietly observing the festivities. Cara has a full flagon of spotchka in one hand and is busy loudly challenging every man in the village to an arm wrestling competition. Omera has the baby perched on her hip and is dancing with Winta while the child squeals in delight.

Finally, after several more hours, the bonfire starts to die down and parents start taking their children back home. Din spots Winta and the child sitting on the steps of the common house, half asleep, and makes his way over to them. “I think it's time for bed,” he says, as he picks up one child in each arm.

The baby coos and snuggles into his chestplate and Winta wraps her arms around his neck. He brings them over to where Omera is talking to Caben. “I'm gonna go put them to bed,” he tells her.

She kisses the baby's forehead and brushes Winta's hair out of her eyes before kissing her forehead as well. “Cara said they can sleep in the barn with her tonight.”

He nods but before he can leave, she stretches up to kiss the cheek of his helmet. He can feel his face and neck heating as he makes his way to the barn. The kids barely stir as he lays them down on the bedroll. He carefully takes the flower crown off of Winta's head and removes her shoes. Then he readjusts the blanket around both children, tucking them in securely.

He rubs one of the little one's big green ears and gets a soft coo in response. Winta cracks one eye open and mumbles, “Night dad,” before rolling over and snuggling deeper under the covers.

Din's shocked. He had secretly hoped Winta would call him that one day but never had any expectations about it. He manages to say good night back before making his way outside.

Omera is waiting for him outside the barn. “Everything alright?” she asks, when he just stands there, not saying anything.

He tells her what just happened and she smiles. “Well, are you surprised?”

He grabs her hand and starts walking back to the bonfire. “I am,” he admits. He had a hard enough time accepting that the kid thought of him as a father. It's not a title he feels like he deserves.

She tugs on his hand and leads the way back to their hut instead. “Winta absolutely adores you. _Both_ of those kids do.”

They cross the threshold of the hut and Omera is quick to reach up to remove his helmet. She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him down into a searing kiss. When they break the kiss, she tells him breathlessly, “You're a good father, Din, whether you believe it or not.”

He smiles softly at her and kisses her again, wrapping his arms around her tightly to hold her close. She tugs at the edge of his chestplate impatiently and Din smiles against her lips. “Patience,” he teases, before lifting her up bridal style.

She squeals in surprise but then quickly pulls him into another heated kiss. He tries his best not to trip on the way to the bedroom.


End file.
